


You're My Mission

by ani_bester



Category: Captain America (Movies), Winter Soldier (movies)
Genre: Brainwashing, Flashbacks, Gen, Memory Loss, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1565033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ani_bester/pseuds/ani_bester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finally catches up to Bucky -alone- only to realize that Bucky isn't very there at the moment. He's determined though, not to fail his friend again, and tries to find a way to reason with Winter Soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Mission

Steve stepped out of the jaundiced light cast by the street lamps and plunged into the black shadows of the alleyway. 

His eyes adjusted to the dark in less time that it took to blink, and for a split second he saw a glint of reflected light shine like a beacon. He focused his gaze there and made out the shape of a figure trying to hide inside the darkness. Relief rushed through him like a bolt of electricity as Steve realized he hadn't lost Bucky to the shadows of the tall building. 

Bucky stood at the end of the alley, backed against the tall mesh fence like a trapped animal. The high metal fencing towering over Bucky gave the illusion of having trapped him, but Steve knew better. One wrong move, one threatening breath, and Bucky would be over the fencing and gone before Steve could catch up. Steve took a deep breath and became as still as he could, holding his arms out wide. He would not let that happen this time. Not again.

“Bucky,” Steve whispered. “Please, please don’t run; please come- come with me.”

Steve could see Bucky clearly now, and saw him tense, muscles coiled, ready for action. He stared out at Steve from beneath unwashed, tangled brown hair. His human hand held a tattered brown coat closed over a thin dirt grey shirt. Torn jeans fell loose over combat boots, and staring at those boots, Steve could see Bucky stood ready to flee. A pit opened in his stomach and he steeled himself for the inevitable loss, and the pain that would come from having failed Bucky yet again. He could feel his phone his back pocket, Sam- back up- was only a single button push away, but even that would be too much movement. Reach for the phone and Bucky would run.

“What do you want.”

The words were Russian, and spoken with less emotion than the voice on Steve’s phone. Steve searched the gaunt, dirty face, the narrowed brown eyes, looking for the spark he’s seen that day on the catwalk. Looking for Bucky.

He saw only the weapon.

The question came again, more growl than words and heavy with threat.

Steve’s expression remained neutral, but his mind raced for a way to connect, if not to Bucky, then what stood before him with Bucky trapped deep inside. He settled not for being clever, or even perhaps smart, but for what had always worked best between him and Bucky. The honest truth. Keeping his hands held out away from this sides, Steve risked advancing a single step. 

“I want to find you, Bucky, and bring you back home with me. I want to help you.”

Steve saw something alive flicker for a moment in Bucky’s eyes before being swallowed again by dead shark-like gaze.

“Why?”

The words were in English now, giving Steve a single ray of hope. Millions of answers rushed through his head, friendship, love, devotion, obligation, but he knew better than to expect to connect emotionally again, not at this moment. Instead he picked something the weapon could relate to, maybe understand.

“Because it’s- you are- “ He took a deep breath. “Keeping you safe, that’s my mission.”

The words echoed down the alleyway, and Bucky reacted, but not in a way Steve hoped. He became still as rock for a split second, then advanced, moving with the heavy footsteps Steve had first seen on the overpass months ago.

“You’re my mission,” the weapon whispered, sounding as though it had just recalled its purpose in life. 

Steve's stomach twisted as Bucky advanced. He stepped backwards and searched for the fastest escape route, hoping to retreat before the inevitable happened.

Sudden movement from Bucky caught Steve’s attention, and just as he began to reach for his shield, he realized Bucky wasn't pulling out a weapon. Instead, he was taking off his dirt caked coat. He slipped it over his shoulders as easily as he might have pulled out a gun, and then held it out to Steve. Steve stared, feeling like the world had shifted beneath his feet and knocked up and down all askew.

Bucky jerked the coat in Steve’s direction again, gaze as intense as it had been when they had first fought, but his stance had shifted from threatening to somehow pleading. Steve could see strain in Bucky’s face as though Steve’s lack of movement caused him pain. When Steve still did not move, Bucky moved at him. Steve twitched but managed to hold still, trusting as Bucky took his arm. With precise gentle movements, Bucky shoved Steve into the coat and zipped it close.

 

_“Steve!”_

_Steve walked faster, trying to act like he hadn't heard his name._

_“Steve, ignoring me will not make me go away!”_

_With a loud sigh, Steve turned to see Bucky jogging after him coat in hand. “Bucky, seriously, I am just going down the block!”_

_“And it’s seriously cold out.” Bucky held the coat out to Steve. “Wear your coat, Steve, or suffer my wrath if you get sick.”_

_Steve rolled his eyes._

_“Ok, please don’t force me to put this on you.” Bucky said with a half grin. “You know I will.” He continued to hold the coat until Steve gave in an pulled it over his skinny body._

_“You had nothing better to do than come mother hen me, Bucky?” Steve muttered. Bucky threw an arm around Steve, laughing as he did so._

_“Nope sorry, Steve, it’s my mission in life to mother hen you.”_

_Steve growled something less than polite, only making Bucky laugh all the louder.  
_

 

Steve felt like his chest might burst from the feelings battling inside. His eyes begin to burn and pressed the back of his hand to them so his vision of Bucky remained clear. 

Bucky's hands still rested on Steve's chest, metal fingers holding the zipper. His gaze darted up and down Steve's face, as though presented with a puzzle he didn't even know how to start. 

“You are my mission,” Bucky whispered. His grip tightened as he clung to Steve like a drowning man clinging to a raft. 

Steve met Bucky's gaze, raising his hands with slow caution. Bucky didn't move, and when Steve's own hands rested over Bucky's, the weapon retreated and the ghost of his friend flickered behind wide brown eyes once again. 

“Ok,” Steve choked out past the lump in his throat. “Ok Buck, I’m your mission.”


End file.
